It's been a while and I'm more than a tad bit rusty...honestly this was like pulling teeth, but I refused to let it defeat me. Anyway this was inspired by the episode Visionary from Teen Wolf...a lot of unanswered questions about Peter and Talia's background, so I came up with my own. It's a darkfic...most of mine are...if you have read my Mass Effect fics you already know that. Kind of following the theme from Once Upon a Time...that evil isn't born it's made. The fic delves into Peter's past revealing what events might have shaped his life and personality over the years.
Rated M for Sexual situations and violence.
I do not own Teen Wolf
Present Day
"...the same thing that changes a lot of young men...a girl."
Those words poured forth as he recounted the story of Derek's first love. Little did his audience know that his statement could also be applied to him.
"Peter...where are you going?"
Peter's sister stood in the doorway blocking his exit.
"No...not now," he thought.
Now was not the time...any other time and he wouldn't have minded the interruption, but not now...not today.
"Out," he mumbled.
Talia raised her brow...a vague answer?
"When did that begin?" she wondered.
Instinctively, she reached out and gently grabbed his chin, turning his face towards her. Peter avoided her gaze.
"Peter," she said softly.
Pulling from her grip, Peter dropped his head, and stared silently at the floor.
Talia sighed.
"Tonight is the full moon Peter."
"I know how to keep from shifting during a full moon," he replied.
"You know that's not what I meant."
Peter knew what she meant...hunters...they would be out in full force tonight. It had been the one thing that had made him question the wisdom of his plans.
"Peter..wherever you are going...it's not worth risking your life."
"But it's worth it to me," he thought.
The realization that he was willing to put his life on the line strengthened his resolve, and all doubt was removed...if he had to tangle with the hunters he would.
"Peter..." she began, the desperation rising in her voice.
He hated not telling her the truth, but he couldn't manage to get the words out of his mouth.
"Why?" he thought, "why can't I say it?"
Somewhere deep down he thought he knew...she would never approve.
He could feel her gaze boring into the top of his head.
"Where are you going?" she finished.
"Out with some of the other players on the team...just wanted to get in a little extra practice...that's all."
Peter could feel the lie slither off his tongue with ease. He hated lying to her, but he felt he had no choice. He was surprised at how easy it came...how calm he felt in saying it...how controlled his heartbeat remained as the words flowed from him to her.
If she had listened to his heartbeat, she didn't acknowledge it.
"Or perhaps she can't tell I'm lying," he thought. Again he marvelled at how calm he felt.
Talia smiled, "Now was that so hard? Where at...the school or the park?"
"The park," he replied.
"So you only have daylight to play by?"
Peter nodded his head...despite his eerie inner calmness, he couldn't continue to verbally lie to his sister.
"Promise me you'll be back before nightfall."
Again Peter only nodded in agreement as his sister graciously stepped aside from the door.
Tailia watched as Peter disappeared down the trail leading away from their house. He had lied to her...it hadn't been easy to detect at first...his depth of control had been surprising, but her admiration was eclipsed by the fact that in all the time he had lived with her, this was the first time he had ever lied.
"Nine years," she whispered.
It had been nine years since her parents death...since a younger brother she barely knew had been left in her care. She remembered how the disheveled seven year old had looked up at her with tears in his eyes...how he had not hesitated when she had held out her arms to him...and how he had clung to her like he was clinging to his very own life. And in a way he had never let go...
"Until today," she thought.
The mother in her regretted letting him go...he was like one of her own...but the wolf in her knew that some things you had to learn for yourself. She made a compromise with herself...she would give him till nightfall...if he had not returned by then she would risk the hunters herself to make sure he returned home safely.
The sun had already begun to set before the cottage came into view. The shadows that fell across its threshold caused Peter to pause. He had never been here this time of day and had not been aware of how much it reminded him of the home that he had once shared with his parents. Excitement was suddenly replaced with a sense of foreboding.
The memories flooded his senses.
Nine Years Earlier
"...but what about Dad?" Peter asked.
"He's not coming back...we have to go!"
Peter's mother grabbed his arm and drug him towards the door.
"It's not safe here now...not with your father gone. We have to get to your sister...to Talia."
Peter had looked up questioningly at his mother. He had only seen his sister once a year during the wolf moon when the family would gather. He doubted he would have known her if he had seen her on the street.
"Here...take this...in case we get separated."
Peter shoved the paper his mother handed him into his pocket.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Your sister's phone number...if anything happens you call her...she'll take care of you."
Peter eyes filled with tears. His mother gently grasped his shoulders.
"Don't cry...I'm sure everything will be fine...it's just a percaution...okay."
Biting his lip to hold back the tears, Peter wiped his eyes and nodded.
"Mom?" he asked, "Do you hear..."
Peter's mother backed away from the door shielding her son.
The door flung open.
"Anna!"
Peter's father slammed the door behind him.
"Get Peter to the basement...Now!"
"Why...where have you been...what's going on..." his mother started.
"Just do it now!" Peter's father pleaded, as he pushed the two of them towards the basement door.
Dropping the questions, his mother whisked Peter downstairs.
Peter knew of the crawl space, but it had never been used until that day.
"Mom..." he started.
Concern crossed his mother's face and she silenced him.
"Be quiet Peter...don't come out until we come get you...or...or until you're sure that no one is in the house."
"But Mom..." Peter pleaded.
"Shhhh Peter...no more...just do what I ask...and remember, I love you."
And with that she was gone.
As he waited for whatever might come, he could hear his parents voices drifting down from above.
"Where have you been...it's been three days?" Anna asked.
"Hunters...they thought I was someone else...they cornered me...and...and...I killed one of them, Anna...it was an accident."
"They don't believe in accidents."
Peter could hear the deadness in his mother's voice.
"Why did you lead them here?!" she exploded, hysterically.
Peter shivered.
"I didn't mean to...that's the reason I've been gone so long...avoiding home, so they wouldn't find you, but it doesn't matter now."
"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" she asked.
"They know who we are and where we live...they're coming and it's too late to run."
Peter could smell the defeat in the air...he knew what it meant. Silently, he choked back his sobs and let his tears fall. Dread filled his heart.
"Are you sure...we could go right now...maybe if we were..."
Anna never finished her sentence.
Glass shattered...Peter jumped...his mother's screams filled the air.
Biting his tongue he fought to remain silent.
Blood filled his mouth, poured over his lips and down his chin.
"Please, " he thought. "just let it stop."
The floorboards above Peter's head shook as something crashed overhead, and Peter was suddenly frozen with fear.
They would find him...he knew it now. He was going to die.
A weak whimper filtered down the stairs. It was quickly silenced as a gunshot rang out.
A haunting howl exploded into the atmosphere followed by a low growl.
Peter recognized it as his father.
A second shot rang out.
"Do it...make sure they're dead." a voice commanded.
Peter went numb.
Time disappeared...was it hours...days...he had no idea. Eventually, the sounds of the hunter's presence fell silent, and all was still again. Peter emerged from the crawl space and stumbled up the stairs.
He came upon his mother first but could not bare to look. Evidently in her final moments, despite the risk of exposing Peter, she had made for the basement stairs. Blind instinct had taken over, and her last thought had been only of her son.
Peter's father lay just beyond his wife. Failing to protect her, he lunged at the hunters in a desperate last act of unbridled rage.
A look of anger and defiance was still frozen on his face. He had fought to the last even in the face of defeat.
Reaching down, Peter lay his small hand in his fathers.
With his other hand, he tried to force his father's stiffening fingers to wrap around his own...all to no avail.
His father never let him cross the street without first taking his hand.
"How am I gonna get across now?" Peter thought.
Fresh tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.
Looking across the room he saw the rest of his parents remains...they had been cut in half.
Would the hunters really leave his parent's bodies here to rot, or would they return to remove the evidence?
He tried to remember all that his parents had told him about the hunters but couldn't...fear and confusion had begun to take it's hold on him.
Every sound no matter how small became amplified in his own imagination.
Suddenly seized with panic he fled his childhood home and the nightmare that lay within.
He shifted and everything became a blur.
How long he ran he could not remember, and when he shifted back he did not know.
What he did remember was the paper in his pocket...a lifeline to the sister he barely knew.
The hours seemed like days to him as he waited just out of sight at the gas station.
'What if she doesn't come?" he thought.
Sadness welled up inside of him at the thought of being alone.
Quelling the urge to cry, Peter closed his eyes and drifted off only to be awakened by a familiar scent.
"A werewolf," he thought.
Peter peeked out from behind the bushes.
He was shocked at how much the face that greeted him looked like his mother. She was smiling at him.
"Peter?" she asked.
Peter nodded and the tears burst forth again.
She held out her arms and he didn't hesitate.
"It's going to be all right, Peter...I've got you now...everything's going to be alright."
How long had he been standing there like a moonstruck idiot? This wasn't his childhood home...he hadn't even lived in Beacon Hills back then.
Peter shook off the memories and turned his attention back towards the present...his reason for being here in the first place...Celeste.
Scanning the cottage façade, revealed only darkness within. Evidently, the blue-eyed, raven haired girl had not yet arrived.
He surveyed the surrounding area...everything was quiet. A slight smile crossed his lips...this place had provided the opportunity that he had been looking for.
He had only found it by accident, but when the mention of it brought a surprised curiosity from Celeste, he liked to think its discovery was fate.
The girl he had been interested in for so long had finally taken notice of him as he described in every detail the features of the hidden getaway.
In the end, perhaps he was the one who had been fooled. It seems that it was Celeste who had used the cottage as an excuse to spend time with him. She had liked him from the very start.
From the moment of that discovery, the cottage faded from their conversations as they grew closer and had only recently resurfaced when they had decided they wanted to be alone together.
"And now we can be," he whispered to himself.
The thought brought butterflies to his stomach. Celeste didn't know what he was. What if she found out?
"Why did it have to be the night of the full moon?" he whispered, cursing his luck.
"because this is the only night her father will be away on business for the next three months, and if you try this with him in town, he's sure to catch you and hunters will be the least of your problems," said Peter's inner voice.
The thought of Celeste's overprotective dad darkened Peter's mood. The man scared the hell out of him.
Peter's imagination got the better of him, and he envisioned himself mounted on Mr. Tamry's living room wall.
"Great now I'm losing it," he said, shaking his head.
"...and talking to myself," Peter said louder, "Moonstruck and crazy...I'm becoming a regular lunatic."
"What did you say?"
Whirling around Peter was greeted with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. He couldn't help but break out in a devilish grin that revealed his boyish charm.
"Just thinking out loud." he answered, as calmly as he could.
"Maybe you should do that inside," Celeste answered nodding towards the cottage, "it's kind of cold out here."
Taking her hand, he led her to the door and entered into the biggest mistake of his life.
Present Day
The memory froze...Peter could see himself reaching for the door...he felt the same sense of overwhelming joy at the thought of being with Celeste that he had felt that day. If only he could stop time as easily as he could stop the rush of memories that threatened to overflow him...he would have stopped at that one moment...the moment when he still had hope...unforunately time can't be stopped.
Celeste was quiet..too quiet.
Peter could hear the elevation in her heartbeat...she was nervous, and she wasn't the only one.
He rubbed his hands along the sides of his jeans not just to dry the perspiration but to keep them from shaking.
"I...I brought protection," she stammered.
Peter felt his heart sink. Protection hadn't even occurred to him, he had only been thinking of himself.
"I didn't even think...I'm such an idiot..Celeste, I'm sorry."
"It's okay...I'm not mad."
Peter didn't expect her to be. Out of all the girls at school she was a rare find...not only beautiful but sweet as well. She stood out from the pack.
"But I should have been thinking about you..." he started.
"I said it was okay, Peter...it's alright."
In an effort to comfort him, Peter could sense her heart rate calm. She reached for his hand and smiled.
The move caused Peter's growing awkwardness to dissipate.
As she moved forward, his lips found hers and he quickly forgot his fears.
He felt her response...her willingness...and he began to lose himself in it.
Too much...too soon...and much too fast...the heat of passion was quickly being replaced with the heat of the shift. Peter pulled back and silently bit his lip to quell the shift in its tracks. He had underestimated the affect being with Celeste would have on him. Controlling his shift on a full moon was one thing...controlling it on a full moon while being with Celeste was another.
It was a mistake...he could see that now...but was it too late to back out?
"What's wrong, Peter?"
Peter could hear the hurt in her voice. She thought he was rejecting her.
"I just think...think that we should slow down some...that's all."
Celeste took a step back and pressed her lips together in a thin line. She was fighting the urge to cry.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked quietly.
"No...No..." he said softly.
In spite of his fear, he found himself reach for her hand.
He wanted to tell her the truth...to tell her what he was, but he couldn't find the words. What would she think?
"Do you like me Peter?" she asked.
Peter looked at her puzzled, "You know I do."
Looking at the floor and barely above a whisper she asked, "Do you love me, Peter?"
"Yes...I love you."
The answer surprised him...the fact that it came out of his own mouth surprised him even more, but once he heard it, he knew that it was true. He did indeed love her.
Maybe it was his own naivety...that love could conquer all...or maybe he just wanted an excuse to throw caution to the wind, but in that moment the talk was over...the fear was gone...he gave himself over to every ounce of passion he held for her...consequences be damned.
Peter was lost...time stopped...at some point each of them had removed their shirts, but he couldn't remember exactly when. He was caught up in the moment. He only wanted one thing...her. Nothing else mattered. He could feel the heat rising, but couldn't distinguish whether it was from his own passions or from the beginnings of a shift. Her hands found their way down the front of his jeans and he groaned. In the depth of his being, he could feel the rumblings of a deep seated growl. He repressed it, as he slipped what remained of Celeste's clothing over her narrow hips and down her shapely legs. At the sight of her naked body his mind went blind, and instinct kicked in. The heat that rose within him was the combination of his desire and the beginnings of his shift.
Had he been more aware of his surroundings perhaps he would have realized that he was shifting, but he was caught up in his own bliss. He wanted to be with her forever. His groans became growls as he came to completion, but even then had he come to his senses, he could have shifted back before she saw...but it was too late. Celeste opened her eyes and her groans became screams.
She flailed away at Peter's face.
When the punches seemed to do little damage, she raked her nails into the sides of his cheeks.
Peter screamed. Surprised at the intensity of pain her action brought, Peter quickly pushed away onto his feet. He had once again taken human form.
"Celeste...please...let me explain!" he pleaded.
Kicking with all her strength, she caught him off guard and he was violently shoved against the wall.
He felt the warm trickle of blood flow down the base of his skull as his head slammed into a light fixture.
His vision began to blur.
"Please listen to me, Celeste...give me a chance to explain," his words sounded slurred in his own ears.
Sobbing in between the screams Celeste stammered, "... vile disgusting beast...monster."
The seething words stung Peter as though he had been shot with wolfsbane. It was the worst thing she could say.
His tears began to flow.
A twig popped. Peter's surroundings were beginning to close in on him. He was now aware that they were not alone...hunters were near...and Celeste was still screaming in between her sobs.
"Celeste...please...just listen to me...please...hunters are coming..."
"Dirty..rotten...filthy..animal."
Peter felt an arrow in his heart with each word.
She wouldn't listen...he knew that now...he had to take matters into his own hands...he had to get her to stop screaming.
Mustering his strength, he pushed up and steadied himself. Grabbing at Celeste, He attempted to cover her mouth with his hands.
Her teeth promptly sank into Peter's right palm.
Screaming, Peter jerked his hand away and fell backwards. Once again he lost his balance and fell to the ground.
Then Celeste was on him.
Grabbing a lamp she began to pound him with it.
Peter's skull began to scream at him. He could feel it open, even as the aroma of fresh blood assaulted his nostrils.
Celeste was hurling insults with each blow.
"demon...filthy brute...you disgust me...you sicken me"
The insults cut at his heart even as the blows cut at his head.
The hunters were closer now...he could hear them closing in...no doubt attracted by the commotion Celeste was causing.
He could feel himself begin to lose consciousness even as the heat returned...not the heat of passion, but the heat of the shift. It was then that instinct took over. The wolf had come to the surface, and Peter thankfully faded away. He was barely aware of what happened next, and what little he remembered came only in flashes.
The rampage ceased as Peter's teeth clamped down on Celeste's wrist.
Bones crunched, and her wild tirade was reduced to whimpers.
Flesh ripped as his claws dug deeply into her throat and slashed, releasing a spray of blood that splashed across Peter's face.
Dead silence fell.
As the beast within was satiated, the wolf retreated leaving Peter alone to lick his wounds.
Her limp, lifeless body lay beside him...he forced himself to look.
He could feel the hysteria and the screams rising deep from within.
Thankfully, darkness came to clam him and brought silence instead.
In his unconscious state, he was unaware of the uninvited guest that now stood outside the cottage door.
Present Day
Peter's hands were shaking. All these years later the thought of that night brought out things in him he hadn't felt in years...things he didn't want to feel. Happiness and horror blended together...love and violence becoming one...innocence lost and an innocent life taken.
He remembered his words to Derek. "One minute, you're in this blissful teen romance, and next, she sees fangs, glowing eyes, claws...It wasn't a warning...it was a confession. The human side of him wished that he had died that night...the wolf within him fought to survive.
Dark had come and Peter had not yet returned. Talia had not been able to wait any longer. Securing Laura and Derek with other family members in the safety of their home, she went in search of her brother.
She had recognized the girl's scent immediately. Had she not smelled it on Peter for weeks now...not the scent of another werewolf, but the scent of a human girl. She had let him go, hoping that he would realize his folly before it was too late...that such a relationship could only end in disaster. It was better for him to stick with his own kind.
Eventually the scent led her to a small cottage where she briefly froze...there was another scent...one that chilled her heart.
Blood...the air smelled of blood...fresh blood...and lots of it. Talia didn't hesitate...she could hear the hunters in the distance. If Peter was here, she had to get him...and get him quickly.
"Peter..."
The voice sounded familiar.
"Peter...wake up."
Peter's eyes fluttered open.
He could see the blurred vision of his sister hovering over him.
"Talia," he croaked, " I can't see you very well."
His sister dabbed at his eyes, and his vision cleared. He could see the red soaking into the cloth that Talia had used.
Blood...Celeste's blood...on his face...and in his mouth. The odor of it intermingled with the odor of his own, and he remembered.
Hot tears began to overflow his eyes, and he could feel the hysterics began to rise again.
"I lost control...I shifted and I lost control, " he sobbed.
Talia surveyed the room. She didn't need to see the scene to know that not all the blood in the room was the girls...the scent of Peter's own blood was overpowering.
Looking at her brother's precious face, she knew he had resisted fighting back. No werewolf need take the kind of abuse she saw plastered across his features had they defended themself.
Her attention was diverted to the sound of someone approaching. The hunters were near.
"It's okay Peter...we have to go...hunters are on the way."
"It's not okay...I killed her," he cried.
Peter's tears grew into louder sobs and his hands began to shake.
"It's...It's always the same...dead bodies and hunters...and always running. Will we ever stop running?"
Talia didn't like the look in his eyes...it was like he was somewhere else.
Calmly she replied, "Yes...we'll stop running...but not now...now we have to go...everything is going to be alright...let's just go now...okay."
"I'm...I'm a monster...a filthy beast," he mumbled.
Talia froze. Never had Peter seen himself that way...being a werewolf was a blessing...it was what she had always taught him...what their parents had taught him.
"That's not true...you're not a monster...don't say such things," she replied roughly as she grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.
Silently, Talia cursed herself for losing her temper. She felt frustrated and full of fear.
"How can I fix this?" she wondered.
Using restraint she tried again, "Get up Peter, Let's go."
"darkness...embrace," Peter mumbled.
"What are you saying?...Peter talk to me!" Talia began to feel desperate...the look in his eyes was beginning to frighten her.
She pulled on Peter's shoulder trying to force him to rise.
"Let's go Peter...get up." she repeated.
"I can't..."
Anger flooded Talia's soul...she would not leave her brother here to die.
"You can and you will...Now get up!" Talia's eyes flashed red.
Never had she pulled rank on him...she had never needed to...but now it was the only way...the only way to get him to move.
Peter rose and allowed her to lead him to the door but his expression was blank. She hoped it was only temporary.
With concentrated effort, Talia led him through the woods towards home. Thankfully the hunters fell behind...Talia expected they had found the girl's body...but they would not trace it back to Peter...she would see to that.
As the weeks passed, more changed than just the color of Peter's eyes.
Sarcasm, wit,and charm...Talia accepted the change...anything was better than the withdrawn, silent and lethargic creature she had dragged out of the cottage that night. Unfortunately, the boy she had raised was gone...and so was her closeness to him. She convinced herself that it was natural...that he was just growing up, but something about the cold emptiness in his eyes when he smiled made her fear that somehow a part of him had never really made it out of the cottage alive.
Present Day
"Taking an innocent life takes something from you as well, a bit of your soul...darkening it, dimming the once brilliant, golden yellow to a cold, steel blue...like mine."
The words stayed with Peter long after he had spoken them...they comforted him...brought him to acceptance...just like the words he had spoken to himself all those years ago.
"The only way to face the darkness is to embrace it"...and so he had.